by Nako
“Ready?” he asked her once she walked into the living room of the condo that he owned on South Beach.
She nodded her head and they headed out.
On the way over to the swanky restaurant, he asked her if she felt good being in her stomping grounds and if there were anyone she wanted to see before they left. Mahogany told him, “Nope and hell no,” her tone was dry and curt, so he changed the subject to something more pleasant.
Nobu was all hype and she barely ate her food, but she finished all three of her lemon drops that P ordered her.
“It’s probably the cook…” he said. He loved their food and cleaned his plate.
Mahogany wanted soul food. “Can we go to Fingalickin’ before we leave?”
He rubbed her thigh. “Yeah.”
Dinner was pleasant and Juice’s girlfriend standing up to give a toast made it even more special.
“First, I want to say thanks to everyone that was able to come at the last minute…this was like so insane, but yeah, to my baby…my best friend. I love you so much and I pray that this new chapter is filled with unmeasured blessings, new doors and opportunities that continue to blow your mind. You deserve everything. I know y’all know a lot of people that grind hard, but this is the hardest working man that I personally know.” She held back her tears as he stood up and hugged her, whispering something sweet in her ear.
Mahogany loved love and she didn’t before, but now she did. It was beautiful to see people connect in the name of happily ever after or at least living in the moment. She often told herself that if things didn’t work out between she and her guy, she wouldn’t necessarily be mad. Mahogany gave him her all and vice versa. Every day that they were in each other’s presence was memorable and bliss. This relationship had taught her so much about life and herself as well. Situations such as these were rare, and you couldn’t hate it if you wanted to.
“She’s the one bruh.” She smiled at Juice and he nodded his head, knowing he needed to get his shit together and his priorities in order before he lost a good one.
“To the big booty bitches we gooooooo!” Casey screamed out in the stellar, posh restaurant not giving a fuck. They were some rich ass niggas who were having their way.
“Wait, I got something for you, young bull.”
He pointed to the white gift bag at Mahogany’s feet. She picked it up and handed it to him.
“This was enough…” he mumbled as he opened the bag and pulled out a black box.
“Rollieeeeeeee!” Xavier, another trusted buddy from the crew, yelled out.
They already knew what it was. Porter had a signature about himself. He did things in class and in style. Juice was the only guy in their circle whose wrist wasn’t iced out. That changed today. He was official.
“P….” He was speechless. His life changed in the blink of an eye.
“That’s from me and your sister over here.”
Mahogany hid in the crook of Porter’s neck and then sniffed him. “Damn daddy, you smell good.”
“Daddy?” Juice snickered.
Porter shrugged his shoulders. “Shorty, call me everything.”
She didn’t give a damn.
Mahogany ended up licking and kissing him in that same spot. Some of them were in the Sprinter that he’d rented, and others were in their own whips. Porter loved driving in Miami, their traffic was light in comparison to most cities he traveled to.
While she rolled them a few blunts for the club, he gripped her thigh and contemplated if he wanted to get a quickie in before the night went up in full-swing or if he could wait until they got home after the festivities ended.
“Baby, I’m horny,” she blurted out.
He couldn’t do nothing but shake his head. “Yep, we gon’ be together forever.”
P swore that they shared the same brain sometimes.
She looked over at him and blushed. “You think so?”
“Gotta be. Shit be too much like perfect.” He peeped the rearview mirror to see if he could get off on the exit without any accidents and the switch was successful. P drove around for a few minutes looking for an empty parking lot for him to get into her guts real quick while she sucked him off.
He could barely concentrate at the task at hand, she was sucking the soul out of him.
“Damn ma,” he grunted as he felt himself about to explode.
Everywhere he searched seemed busy and it was too much light.
Porter tried to warn her that he was about to nut. He slammed on breaks and yelped out, “FUCK!”
His seeds spilled profusely out of the tip of his hardened shaft and down her throat. Only a lil’ bit fell out of the corner out of her mouth and she was so fuckin nasty that she licked it up with her tongue.
Porter closed his eyes for only a second until an 18-wheeler honked at him.
“Damn man…” He could go to sleep after that release.
“Baby, Juice asked where was we at? Let’s gon and head to the club.” she told him after she wiped her mouth with a napkin. She was now reapplying her lipstick and foundation as if she hadn’t given him the best head of his life.
P was still foggy.
“You don’t wanna go home?”
She looked at him as if he was crazy. “No, the night hasn’t even got started. Shake it off!” she laughed.
Porter did an illegal U-turn and headed to the strip club. He pulled his car in the front, he wasn’t leaving his half a million-dollar whip in no dark ass parking lot to get stolen. P slid the security a couple hundred bills to keep an eye on his car.
“I got it,” he said, quickly. The guy was trying to help Mahogany out of the low-rider.
He trotted to her side of the car and lent his hand for her to take.
She pulled her shirt down and then asked him, “I look good?” As if she really didn’t know.
He smirked at her, “Bring your yellow ass on,”
They walked right in, no pat down or no payment required. The girl that worked the door was familiar with Pretty Boy P and whenever he came through, he was guaranteed to make it rain.
“Nene, you not gon speak?” the chick spoke.
Mahogany honestly didn’t even see her. “Oh, hey girl.”
She kept it cool. She wasn’t her peoples, more like her ex-best friend’s home girl.
Mahogany held on to P’s hand as they migrated through the crowd, looking for the section that they secured for Juice.
She ended up seeing a few people that she knew and only offered, “hey’s.”
No one was there for her when she lost all her shit, so she wasn’t with the fake shit. The only reason she even spoke was so that no one could say she was acting funny. Regardless, they were going to pop they shit.
“Bout time,” one of P’s friends yelled over the loud music once they walked into the section.
She pointed to her man, saying, “Blame ya boy.”
The club was lit though, and she loved a good time.
They partied hard and she was drunk as hell once they made it to the condo. All she wanted was the bed, butt-naked with the air on. Porter had other plans for her.
“You crazy as hell if you don’t think I’m not about to taste this pussy.” He snatched her leg and dragged her to the edge of the bed.
“Baby, I’m drunk.”
She really could go without fucking him tonight, but he wasn’t hearing that.
“I’m scared that I’m going to throw up,” she admitted.
Porter kissed her on the forehead. “I promise I’m going to take it slow, baby.”
She took a few deep breaths. Whenever he was this close, her heart skipped a few beats. He was so fine, internally and externally. He loved the broken parts of her. He took everything that she came with and swallowed her whole.
Porter was a lil’ drunk himself, he glanced at her. “What?” wondering where her mind had gone.
“You mean so much to me.”
He shook his head. “Drunk ass. Turn over,” h
e commanded as he bent his head and kissed her bare exposed shoulder. Her nipples hardened at his touch.
“I’m drunk,” she whined.
Porter wasn’t trying to hear that at all. Instead, he moved downward and licked her skin as much as he could. She squirmed as he found his way to where he claimed to have had wanted to be since their night started.
“Open up.” He pushed her legs apart and inhaled her scent. He dove in her pussy, head first.
“Porter,” she hissed loudly.
The tongue that her man had on him needed to come with a liability waiver. The things he did with his lips and tongue was a deadly combination. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she thrusted herself into his mouth, over and over again. Giving him all that he had because he begged for it.
“Feed her to me,” he commanded as she began to rain all over his face.
She held the back of his head as she felt her pussy pulsating.
When she came, he came too. That’s how connected they were.
Porter slid himself right into her with no glove. They were getting lazier and lazier in that department, which was something that he used to never play around with, but if she got pregnant, Lord knows he would cry tears of joy. She was already his home. His safe haven. In between her thick, succulent thighs is where he found a peace so sweet and serene. She was love. She was his breath of fresh air. She was an answered prayer on any given Sunday.
Porter dug into her guts like he had something to lose.
“Fuck baby, you’re tearing this pussy up!” she screamed from the depths of her soul.
“Oh yeah?” he questioned as sweat beads dripped from his forehead onto her damp golden skin.
How deeper would he go? How harder would he pump?
Tears filled her eyes as she dropped her head in submission. “I can’t…take it anymore.” She was tired, and they’d just began.
“Nah, you ain’t.”
Drunk sex was good sex, and this was a memory that they could look back over with for years to come. Making love in Miami, in the 305…giving her that good dick. Porter was high off life.
He turned her over and forced her all fours. “Bring that ass back.”
This was one of his favorite positions and the one he wanted her to begin with.
“You still drunk?” he asked her before he slid in.
She shook her head, answering, “Nope.”
They went for hours, round and round. Giving him her all and vice versa.
The sun was coming up as she climaxed and clenched the sheets, screaming his name repetitively until her voice went hoarse.
Mahogany was spent once they finally decided to end their lovemaking and go to sleep.
The next day, when she finally opened her eyes it was only because P was on the phone telling somebody, “I don’t give a fuck if they post us all day every day.”
She went back to sleep. Mahogany wanted to rap and shit, but they could keep the fame.
C H A P T E R 18
On my grind, ain’t no slowing down – Future
Disappointment was defined as sadness or displeasure caused by the non-fulfillment of one’s hopes or expectations. Disappointment can also be a person, event or thing that causes disappointment. She was nervous that her dreams wouldn’t come true, but to automatically be disappointed in something that hadn’t even taken place yet was absurd. Juice didn’t understand.
“I know that I keep asking you the same thing over and over again, but I’m trying to gain clarity here… You’re mad because the song is doing good? You’re mad because you’re low key famous? You’re mad because Cardi said she wanna have a twerk-off with you? Oh, and your mans just copped you another whip and you haven’t even been in the first car for-”
Mahogany screamed out, “UGHHHHH! You don’t get it Juice.” She shook her head.
He damn sure didn’t because anyone else in her position would be nothing other than grateful.
“Explain it to me then.” He rolled up while waiting on her to break down the reason for her being in P’s condo in her pajamas when she should’ve been at branding bootcamp, the studio or hell, promoting the single on her social media. There were a million things that he could’ve given her to do other than sitting in bed, moping and eating Talenti as if she didn’t have a diet to adhere to.
“I woke up this morning and was like, is this shit real?”
He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. “Well, is it?”
She plopped backwards and kicked her feet in the air, resembling a child.
“Why hasn’t the song hit number one yet?”
Patience was a virtue and she had none at all. It was hard for her to bask in her mini accomplishment simply because the song hadn’t hit number one yet.
“It’s in the top ten, that’s still good,” he reminded her.
“Number one though? That’s the real ‘nigga we made it’ moment,” she corrected him.
Juice took a deep breath and sat the half rolled Backwood on the glass table before telling her, “You know what my Big Ma used to tell me all the time?”
It was more of a rhetorical question.
“No. What did she tell you, Jarvis?” she used his government when she was annoyed. Although he was younger than her, he was wise beyond his years and she found herself often comparing him to Porter. They were so alike it was scary. Porter told her that great minds thought alike, and Juice was well on his way to becoming a legend in his own right. She appreciated their friendship, he was like the big/little brother that she needed in this grimy industry.
They were often seen together and if the blogs weren’t already yapping about her dating Pretty Boy P, for certain they would’ve tied her to Juice, the intern.
What a story that would’ve been? Pass around pussy…she was sure they would’ve added that to her title.
“What Big Mama tell you, Jarvis?” she asked him, this time more seriously.
“Every year I thought I would get MVP in baseball. Literally, every year I already claimed it as mine and every year I would be disappointed as fuck. I used to be mad too…One time I punched the wall in my bedroom. Then another year, I stormed out of the reception because for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why they would pick anyone other than me. In my head, nobody on the team was better than me or worked harder than me.”
Mahogany shook her head, confused. “I don’t feel that way,” she clarified quickly.
He didn’t say that she did either. “Hold on. So, the next year I still played hard, but I refused to look for an award. I was really like fuck it at this point. And do you know what happened?”
“You got MVP?”
He laughed, “Hell nah.”
Now, she was confused.
“I said that to say that sometimes we gotta still do the work, regardless of what it looks like to other people. I ended up going to college on a baseball scholarship, so to me that was better than an MVP award.”
She was waiting for the point and he told her, “Look sis, you’re working so damn hard. I see the effort you put into this shit and I don’t want you to get down on your ass if you don’t hit number one. It’s a hundred songs out right now, and the fact that you’re in the Top 10 with no deal is a major accomplishment. Stop overlooking that.”
He kept it real with her. Juice was right, and Mahogany knew that she needed to take a second and smell the roses.
η
“Do you trust me?”
She peered at him while batting her long mink eyelashes, they were full of volume and made her appear sultrier than she already was.
She slowly nodded her head. He was so…commanding. Like, whenever she was with him all she could do was remain silent and nod her pretty little head.
He was thankful that she told him yes and not no. It took them awhile to get to this…place. Her trusting his direction and allowing him to lead her without offering her unwarranted opinion. They had come a long way and still had more work to do.
<
br /> He turned her towards the bathroom mirror where she was getting ready for tonight. He had been dragging her to all kinds of events and she was honestly tired, but knew that she better not dare complain. Lately, prayer had become a habit and she was seeing God working overtime on her behalf.
He fished around in the drawer, looking for something in particular. One hand remained on her shoulder while the other searched and searched.
“Got it,” he sighed and then picked it up.
Scissors? she thought to herself. What in the hell was this nigga about to do? When he knocked on the door asking if she was dressed, she thought that maybe he had to pee…but he had a bathroom in his suite, so she let him in anyway.
“Confession time.”
She rolled her eyes and he saw her nervousness.
“Relax.” He smiled at her in the mirror before rubbing his hand through her long extensions.
He loved her style but hated her hair. Tonight, he was going to cut it off. The blonde gave her a fierce look, but the almost thirty-inch bundles was too much, and he was over it. It gave off the wrong impression of the image he was trying to create for her.
“How about we cut all…this off,” as he spoke, he picked up her hand and measured about twelve inches.
She told him almost instantly, “P, no... hell no. I like my hair.”
“You said you trusted me…” he reminded her.
She exhaled loud enough for him to hear that she was irritated.
“I got you,” he promised, as he studied her hair as if he was born to do this.
He cut off the hair and almost grew hard as he watched it fall to the floor.
Leaving her with a shoulder-length cut that she’ll need to have trimmed to make it look right before they were scheduled to leave.
“You like this?” she had to ask him because she didn’t. At all.
He smiled widely. “Like? No. I love it. You look like a grown ass, sophisticated, ain’t come to play woman…which is my kind of girl.” He wasn’t hardly aware of the effect he was having on her. If she could bottle him up, she would.
“What else do you love?” she pressed him for more.
He smirked, knowing that she expected him to answer her question although he wouldn’t right now.